


Please

by Caden B (maenaise)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Implied Axel/Roxas - Freeform, M/M, Roxas-Centric, Vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 05:32:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4816967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maenaise/pseuds/Caden%20B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days are better than others, and those others never start off quite right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while half-asleep and listening to 'Human' by Daughter and I'd suggest giving it a listen while reading this.

Roxas was in a mood--there wasn't much more that could be said. It was a mood. He was in it. He was curled in a tight ball on his bed, light pouring through the cracks in his curtains at a quickening pace as night became dawn, and dawn became morning. This followed until his phone told him it was noon. He didn't remember when he had woken up, maybe a little after midnight. Or perhaps it was after two, he couldn't say anymore certainly. There had been a two and he had been wasting away in the same spot for at least ten hours. He'd chastise himself but, honestly, this was such a recurring event it would be alarming if it didn't happen at this point. 

He never knew how to describe these moods past twisted similes and poorly thought out analogies. Roxas was only good at words when it came to academics and anything clinical, he figured he dried himself up in those departments and left nothing for everything else. And that left his emotions indescribable, raw and only labelled as, 'Moods.' Capital M, a punctual period. A single word filling a single sentence. He could list for hours how it felt to have your chest crushing itself from the inside out, collapsing in on itself from the inside and outside much like a star set to go supernova. Except there was no creation of iron that caused this reaction, and even if he did burst there would be no beauty. Roxas knew he wouldn't leave gold, silver, beautiful heavy metals littering the galaxy. He wasn't sure if he'd leave much of anything actually. He pressed a hand over his eyes, fingers digging in and causing bursts behind his eyelid as he felt existential dread creep up his esophagus. Moods. 

Heat crawled through his body as his mind reached a brief lapse of clarity beneath fog and he idly wondered when the last time he drank anything was. _What about food,_ a part of him added. Roxas felt his stomach gnaw at itself in reply, but it didn't growl and the ache felt comforting. It was grounding below the threads of doubt in his throat and the paradox of his chest bursting yet caving in the middle. He wondered if he should force himself to drink a glass of water, a part of him rolled as if he'd throw up in response. Roxas was too content to lay in the same curled up fetal position, face now firmly pressed into a pillow to keep up the illusion of night. His joints ached and creaked but he wouldn't relent for their sake. 

He checked his phone again, foregoing the time to check the texts he'd missed in the past few hours due to silencing his phone. It hadn't been noon for four hours and some change now and he cursed his overall lack of time awareness. The hand that wasn't hesitantly hovering over entering his passcode found his side, running up his shirt and squeezing his ribs. He dug his blunt nails in as much as they would, wanting to let out a scream yet at the same time suppressing one. Roxas stayed like that for a few moments, phone screen going black and messages lost again. He couldn't remember who sent them. He wondered if they were all from the same person. One person. The threads of dread tightened in response as he thought their name. Roxas hated himself more for that response. A heavier weight settled in the center of his ribcage where a fist sized piece of flesh should be. He doubted the existence of his heart even as he felt and heard its beating. If he had a heart, if he were a good person, he would be able to answer a simple text message. Roxas could think so, so rationally and in such clinical ways until other people got involved. Most days he could handle the crushing, but people brought the exploding. One person in particular made him feel on the brink of a supernova, and yet that wasn't a strong enough term. A hypernova so strong it wouldn't even become a blackhole, just blow itself to smithereens, felt more accurate. He could only wish he'd disappear in such a way. 

Roxas moved just slightly as he daydreamed of exploding star matter, trying to stretch out his arms and legs while not losing the warmth he'd gathered. His joints protested but his body altogether felt better. Now his stomach growled but he ignored that, pressed both hands to his ribs and squeezed. It hurt and he felt like he was drowning and maybe he was, he wished he was. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried counting to ten to calm himself down as waves of emotion rolled over him. Roxas' fingers squeezed tighter, his nails dug further, he thought maybe his lungs had stopped working. It was just a mood, and he tried repeating this to himself but the waves didn't stop and now his lungs were filling, filling, filling but he couldn't let go of the air. Only when his white knuckled grip became too much on his fingers did he finally and oh, so slowly, release his breath. Energy wheezed out of him like a deflated balloon and he felt defeated. Whatever fight was in him loosened and despite already laying down he collapsed further into his bed, curling back into a fetal position like a wind up doll. His hands now cradled his sides, hugging himself since no one else was around to do it. A name came to mind, in response a whisper, _He hates you._

He checked his phone again, it was close to dying and another hour had passed. Roxas couldn't remember feeling so tired, felt increasingly more so as he read the texts. There were apologies, among other things, but namely apologies and a 'can i come over??'. He felt strangely punctual as he read this most recent message, it was only ten minutes old. Roxas felt the last of stubborn resolve slip out of him and he hastily typed back a single worded response, 'Please.' He smiled as a text quickly answered back asking him to leave the door unlocked. 

Roxas got up, stumbling only slightly as he did, and unlocked the door.


End file.
